Calling Home
by fRANkiEGirL61
Summary: <html><head></head>When Harry gets changed into a vampire in the summer before his sixth year, he's not surprised. He just embraces the darkness and becomes one of the shadows- or he tries to at least. If only it weren't for a certain very much alive James Potter. AU</html>
1. The Sight

**Hello lovely readers. :) This is a fairly new fic. After a lot of serious thought, I have decided to just go right out and publish the full first chapter, and here it is. It has not been beta'd so please point out any mistakes. CC and flames are most definitely welcome. :P If you would like to beta please contact me and I will most likely say yes. I really would like to have a beta for this fic. Anyway, yes, Harry gets changed into a vamp in this fic. *mouth drops open* Anyway... READ!**

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><p>They stood, seeping into the shadows, letting the dark fog of the night embrace them. They felt the chilling blackness pressing in on them. He shuddered with satisfaction and she laughed- a harsh, sharp, throaty shriek of contentment. The crisp, cool wind snaked by, caressing their faces and bodies. It was a good night for hunting.<p>

The man listened, silently detecting nearby humans that were too dark to truly see, let alone identify.

"Where are we?" He grunted to the woman.

"Oh, I don't know. Somewhere in England." She growled as she began to soundlessly make her way through the trees and across the forest, which rested along the outskirts of the town, mutedly moving with the grace of a gazelle.

As he blindly followed after his companion, the man growled in frustration, thoroughly annoyed- he had an unexpected and strange knowledge of this place, as if he had been here once before. Or maybe, that wasn't it. Perhaps he had been here in his dreams; his dark, cloudy dreams with only the occasional shining ray gleaming through. Or maybe he had never been here in his human days, or in his vampire days, or in his dreams. Perhaps he simply had some sort of connection to this town, which made him feel drawn to it in uncanny ways, and made him feel the overwhelming need, which he now felt, to protect it.

He continued to look around. He could barely make anything out, yet the odd familiarity that he sensed in the current location was utterly overwhelming.

"James!" his companion hissed, "I'm freaking thirsty. Let's just suck some pisser the get outta here."

He shook his head distractedly and thought; I've_ definitely been here before._

Upon hearing this, she snorted with disbelief. _Of _course _you have._

The two continued to silently make their way through the thick undergrowth of the forest that resided outside of this town's park. They were about ten yards away from the outskirts of the neighborhood park. The street, where a car occasionally drove by, was not so much more far off. They both tensed when they sensed warm, beating human blood in the distance.

So then they looked toward where the scent was coming from. In the far, far distance, walking along the street, there was a human figure. Its gangly form walked slowly along the sidewalk, emaciated and sickly. James hadn't felt many emotions other than thirst, anger, and seclusion in the past fifteen years, but at the sight of this boy's skinny frame, hunched, defeated shoulders and sad aura, he couldn't help the strange feeling of pity and affection that washed through him.

Beside him, Vasliki growled and nodded toward the figure. What was it doing out so late? James didn't know. All that he could possibly fathom amid his strange sense of affection was that Vasliki wanted this person to be their next meal.

He shook his head toward her, "We shouldn't feed until Si catches up to us."

Vasliki just snarled. James knew she didn't care about that screwball, but seeing as the insane yet wise and experienced vampire had created both of then, it was their responsibility to not feed until he joined them.

"He'll probably be here by tomorrow." James added.

Together the two vampires then silently slithered deep into the night to wait for their old friend's arrival.

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><p>Cruelty. Sometimes, he thinks that's all he's ever known. When he was a child, he grew up with his ruthless aunt and uncle, constantly giving him the lower-hand and raising him with barbaric, bloodthirsty methods. He had a cousin, too. Dudley. Dudley was savage, heartless, and spoiled, smothered in gifts and praises by his parents. Dudley was trained to treat others poorly and with disrespect.<p>

He was a skinny boy. His aunt and uncle never fed him enough- just enough to get by. They taught him discipline in the cruelest of ways, and now he has tape over his glasses. He never even really had a place to live, except in the cupboard beneath his stairs.

Believe it or not, this boy, Harry Potter, is famous. Quite famous, rich, too! He's a wizard. Not even an ordinary wizard! As a mere child, practically an infant, he defeated the great and feared dark wizard Voldemort. Of course, that had never earned him any respect from his true family, but they didn't matter to him anymore.

That's exactly what Harry thought on one unbearable hot and sweaty July morning as he made them breakfast. They didn't matter to him anymore. In the next room, he could hear Dudley complaining over his crappy life. From what Harry could gather, he had just stubbed his toe as he made his way down the stairs, fell, and couldn't get up.

Harry couldn't help the small chuckle that snaked up his throat and out into the open. He couldn't actually see what was going on in there, but he had the hilarious and most likely accurate image of Petunia fawning over him, bent down over his fat body and attempting to help him get up. Vernon pacing around, trying to come up with a Game Plan to ensure that such an atrocity would never happen again to his supposedly strong and tough son.

"Vernon…" Harry heard Petunia's soft but fretful voice, "He can't get up! Our poor Diddy-kins is trapped on the floor! Should… should we call the police? Or the ambulance? For help?"

At hearing this, Harry couldn't hold back the bout of laughter that had previously threatened to escape from within. He must have laughed pretty loud, because Vernon angrily waddled into the kitchen.

"How's breakfast coming along?" His voice was surprisingly steady and it didn't seem to match up with his tomato red face. Harry swore he saw a vain pop in his forehead.

"Uh, fine. Almost ready. I'm making eggs." Harry said, just as Vernon's sweaty hand whipped out and grabbed the pan where the eggs were boiling, promptly dumping them on Harry's head.

They were both screaming then. Harry because he was covered in hot, burning eggs, which were running down his face and seeping into him. Vernon because he had stupidly grabbed the boiling pan and his hand was now raw and blistering. He had promptly released the pan once the eggs were securely on Harry's head, and it had clattered to the floor with a loud crash.

During this time, Petunia had obviously succeeded in rescuing Dudley from the perils of the floor, because Dudley was now laughing hysterically from the doorway that connected the kitchen and living room. "That's what you get for laughing at my poor mum caring for me!" He shouted to Harry.

Petunia was there too, furiously making her way into the kitchen. "You idiot of a boy!" She glared at Harry with as much ferocity she could muster. If some serious shit wasn't going down, Harry would have found it humorous that that was all she could gather as her most intimidating glare. "How _dare _you laugh at poor Diddy-kins, your Uncle, and I? We have put this goddamned house over your unworthy head and you have the _nerve _to be so disrespectful? I'll deal with you most severely when Vernon and I get home!"

"Where are you guys going?" Dudley asked between his bouts of laughter.

"To the _hospital _to get your father's hands treated because this boy stupidly got them burned!" Petunia yelled as she distractedly tried to wrap them in a damp rag.

"No!" Vernon yelled, "It burns!"

Harry barely registered any of this. At the time, all he knew were she sharp pains that stabbed his face, his neck and his scalp. The egg yolk drooling down over his head. But most of all, his intense hate for his ridiculous family, the anger that had come over him, the furious demeanor he had now taken up.

"_Shut up!_" He shouted angrily. "Do you think this is _okay?_ I'm absolutely sick of always getting the lower hand in this house. Freaking hell, Dudley must be some sort of _God _in your eyes!" He breathed heavily as the fire burned on within him, licking his insides and thrilled to have finally been lit.

For a second, Petunia just stared at him. Because she was surprised at his outburst? Harry didn't think so. He didn't know why, but finally she just violently shook her head and said, "remember, you're getting punished, Harry… you've been very disrespectful today," before ushering herself and her husband out the door.

Outside, the slamming of car doors could be heard, and then the engine. Harry remained rooted to the floor, fearing that if he were to move he would lose control and break something, like he greatly wanted to. Rage had been slowly building up within him, and as his whole mind burned with fire, anger, and eggs. He had finally had enough.

And then Harry thought, _do I really care? _Is this life with these nasty people what mattered to him? Of course not! The wizarding world mattered to him. His friends, Ron and Hermione. Dumbledore. Remus and Sirius. Not his disastrously misled muggle family! Certainly not.

"I hope they kick you out!" Dudley laughed. "No- even better, I hope they feed you poison!"

"They would get arrested." Harry whispered.

"I hope they lock you in your room and don't let you go to school!" Dudley went on, ignoring Harry's comment. "Oh, this is great! You deserve it, of course, for always being such an asswipe to us."

Harry finally began to walk toward the sink, no longer rooted in spot. He was happy that the flames inside of him had finally incinerated. But now he just felt tired. He cleaned himself up and got an icepack.

"Right, well, I'm going out now. I'm hungry. When I get back, have something made for me, will you?" Dudley said happily as he slipped on his shoes and walked out the door. Harry had no doubt that he was going to go find his possy and smoke some weed, but hey, this is a sixteen year old muggle, what can you expect? He was also probably going to stop by McDonald's and have a few meals.

Anyway, Harry just hung around for the rest of the day, caught up in his thoughts and imagining going back to Hogwarts. He direly wished that Ron, or Hermione, or Dumbledore, or _someone _would come save him from the Dursley's. But he knew that it was unlikely, seeing as it was still so early in the summer.

Finally it got late out. Dudley had been in and out all day, right now he was out. Harry's aunt and uncle still hadn't gotten back from the hospital. Perhaps they had gone out for dinner after Vernon's hands got treated. Either way, Harry was sitting around by himself. He considered pulling out his spell books, hanging out with Hedwig some more, or writing letters to his friends, but he had already done all of that earlier that day.

So he decided to go for a walk. Lately, Harry had been going out on nightly walks. Really to just get away from the Dursley's when he had a chance, when they weren't drowning him with chores. Today, he knew that if his aunt and uncle were to get back and fine him not home, they would just get even more vexed, but he could care less. There was most likely no punishment worse than whatever they already had planned for him.

With that in mind, Harry slipped on Dudley's hand-me-down shoes and made his way into the night. He usually walked to the park, so that's where he headed.

_Nope. They don't matter at all_. Harry angrily thought as he hurriedly paced along the sidewalk and deeper into the night, desperate to get as far as possible from that wretched house and those awful people. Dumbledore would chastise him, for it was his mother's blessing and his aunt's blood and therefore living with these awful people that had kept him alive the past few years. But Harry didn't care. He wanted to be done with them, to face Voldemort once and for all. He focused on the misty night and warm but breezy summer air and on his sixth year at Hogwarts which he was desperate to start.

He imagined going into the forest, deep into the forest. Getting his broom and taking off to someplace far, far away. He would spend the summer with Ron, or Hermione. Or he would somehow discover that Sirius was still alive, and they would live together and teach each other magic and knowledge. But. Harry knew that it wasn't possible, and never would be.

He entered the park and practically fell onto one of the park benches as a dizzying faintness suddenly came over him. He clenched his hands into fists, and his knuckles turned white under the pressure. In the distance, he could see the street that would be his way home. It was very dark, and the grey, black, and brown blend of ugly colors seemed to be seeping into him. It was very misty too, but with the help of a streetlamp he could barely make out a tall, black figure slowly walking along the sidewalk, as if it were in pain. It was an old man, for sure, and Harry watched as he stopped and stood, existing in the damp, black substance around him. It was almost as if the man was talking, a low, husky, guttural sound, hoarse from many silent spent years, just waiting for someone to come and listen. _Impossible._ Harry thought. _Too far away for me to hear him! _Harry felt isolated within himself. Was he scared? No, not particularly. But there was some kind of unnerving aroma the man lent off that sent shivers down his spine and made him feel sick to his stomach. Harry could barely make out the words, "Now I've got to find James… and Vasliki…"

The already breezy air chilled and the feeling of uncertainty was suddenly over bearing. Was this a death eater? A wizard? A creep? Should he run, approach the poor thing, or stay a frozen shadow on the bench? The old man turned and looked at him. Harry felt his criticizing eyes travel over him, his icy cold glare seep through him. A chilling reminder to the awful events that occupied his life. Harry tensed, frozen, except for his loud, quickly beating heart that could probably be heard from miles away.

He made his mind up on what to do. But before he could do anything the strange, awkward, unnerving and mysterious man turned around and kept on walking along the sidewalk. And he didn't stop. He just walked, and walked, until he was far, far away.

So then Harry went back to the abominable place he was required to call home.

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><p><strong>There you have it. Oh, I hope it wasn't too confusing or badly written! Please, if anyone can help me find a beta that'd be great! Review! If you want, perhaps give me some summary ideas! Thanks!<strong>

**~fRANkiEGirL61**


	2. The Vision

…**and here we are with chapter 2. Let's give a shout out to my Bio teacher who gave me so, so much work that I felt obliged to procrastinate and wrote this in the process! Thanks to the reviewers of chapter one: Lady Vonne, evilqueen06, GoddessOfBassoons, bookworm178040, and Starlight1746! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**The Vision**

When he got home that night, Petunia and Vernon were both there, as was Dudley. Harry walked through the door to find the three of them sitting impatiently in the kitchen.

"Where _were_ you?" Vernon demanded, "We got home from the hospital to find your inconsiderate arse not home, goddamnit!"

Dudley visibly smirked from his seat by the television.

"I went out for a walk," Harry said as he slipped his shoes off by the door and made his way to the kitchen, "it was very refreshing, might I add."

Petunia shook her head angrily and jabbed a long, thin finger in his face. "Don't you be so fresh with your uncle! I hope you recall what happened this morning; the reason we were at the hospital in the first place!"

"Of course I do," Harry shrugged, "that kind of crappy treatment on your part is not something I tend to forget."

Vernon seethed. "And you remember that you're getting punished, I would hope." He struggled to keep is voice as even as possible, breathing loudly and clenching his fist on the table.

"Yup." Harry said. Seeing as he had kind of blown up and gotten very pissed just this morning he was determined to keep calm now. _Anyway, _he thought to himself, _since when did I care about the stupid Dursley's? _

"Right, well you're looking at moving back into the cupboard under the stairs, and a suspension in your cupboard. You are not to leave, save for bathroom and cooking for us and doing any chores we ask you of. You will get fed twice a day and we are taking away any of your school possessions until the time comes, which is when we get to rid you from our house for the rest of the year. More punishment is on the way." Petunia nodded her head and clamped her hands together, leaving no room for any questioning.

"Do you understand?" Vernon asked threateningly.

At first, all Harry thought was, _all that just for laughing at her when she fretted over Dudley?_

But then, he got upset. The cupboard. That's what they were saying. For a short time, he had had his own room in this house, and now it was being stripped away from him for ridiculously non-existent reasons. _The cupboard. _Now, Harry was mad. He clenched his jaw and tensed underneath is burning skin. Anger. Frustration. He didn't want a repeat of Aunt Marge situation, however, and struggled to contain his magic self.

"Yes," he said between gritted teeth, "unlike your son, I 'm smart enough to understand words. Doesn't mean I like it."

Vernon growled. "To the cupboard, _now! _And don't let me catch you having been out on a walk again."

Harry let out an angry huff and walked to the cupboard, where his old bed still resided.

_When I come of age and can use magic as I wish, they will so regret it. _He thought, reassuring himself for the time being.

The events from that morning seemed very far off, Harry realized as he prepared himself for bed. It was almost hard to believe that just that morning he had been cooking them eggs, and Vernon had spilled the eggs on his head.

With a confused mind filled with scrambled thoughts, Harry fell asleep in his old bed in his old cupboard beneath the stairs.

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><p>The next day, Harry obliged to his punishment and lived in the cupboard. He was permitted to leave in order to make them breakfast and lunch and use the loo, but otherwise he was confined to the small area in which he barely fit. He distracted himself from getting too angry about the whole thing by thinking eagerly of Hogwarts, the beautiful place to which he would return this September.<p>

However, by the time it got dark out, Harry could no longer disregard the suffocating claustrophobia he experienced in his cupboard. And it hadn't even yet been a full day! He felt contaminated, suffocating air pressing in on him from all directions. He needed fresh air.

He felt an exhilarated grin creep upon his face as he opened the door of his cupboard, which led out to the rest of the house. Dudley was watching a program. His aunt and uncle were somewhere upstairs. The front door had been left open after some excursion from previously in the day.

So then, without even thinking, he just ran. He zoomed the hell out of there, only stopping briefly to slip on his shoes. His small feet tapped lightly on the tiling as he ran to the door, not nearly loud enough to be heard. He ran for life, for fresh air and rebelling. He ran for all he ever wanted, all he ever had. And then he burst through the door and into the night.

He ran down the road, across the street, and all the way to the park. And then he stopped, stood, and breathed. Deep, exhilarated breaths. He felt hyper from the sudden adrenaline rush, and found himself fidgeting. Would the Dursley's catch him out? By what time would he be back, or would he have to wait until deep into the night to return so they wouldn't discover he had been out?

_Well, right now I should just enjoy my nightly walk. _He thought as he made his way to one of the swings so he could sit and catch his breath. _Nothing can stop me. _

As he sat down on the swing, he slowly became more aware of the intense world around him. There were birds and crickets, bugs everywhere. It was very dark as well but just as they had the previous night, the streetlights provided some light.

In the distance, Harry could see a dog. In the dark and shrouded in shadows, the dog appeared to be black furred. Harry felt his heart ache as memories of Sirius flooded his mind, and he longed to learn that Sirius was somehow still alive. They would live together and his life would be complete. As he watched the dog, his fantasy of Sirius expanded and became more and more intense, and Harry became more and more desperate for an escape from reality.

A sharp jabbing pain in his scar immediately shook him from the dreamy state he had previously been in. Harry then watched as the park around him disappeared. He never left from where he was sitting, though.

Harry was having a vision.

How? He didn't know. Of what? That he couldn't tell either. But before he knew it he was watching from someone else's point of view as that person followed a lady through some thick undergrowth. He was looking through this person's eyes, seeing and hearing what they saw.

"Vasliki." This person growled in a low, husky voice. So the person who's view he was seeing was a man.

The woman turned sharply and stared at him in the eye. "What is it now, James? Si has caught up to us and we've fed. We're ready to leave this place!" _Vasliki and James. Both of these names ring a bell. _Harry thought.

"No, look! See that boy on the swing? It's the same boy we saw from before. The skinny one." Harry heard the man say. The man, James, then turned and looked at the boy. Startled, Harry realized that the boy was him. He saw his own figure, sitting leisurely on the swing and staring off into space.

"_So?" _Vasliki asked impatiently, "it's just a boy. We already found someone else's blood to suck. Let's just get out of here now that we've had our power snack and get our arse's back to Russia."

"No wait." An old, worn out voice croaked from behind. James, the man whom Harry was seeing out of, turned around to address the voice from behind them, and Harry immediately recognized the owner of this voice as the old, disfigured, creepy man who had stared at him last night and then walked away.

"I have some unfinished business here, actually." The old man said. "And yes, I've seen that boy as well. Anyway, How about we leave tomorrow night, okay?"

Vasliki and James both nodded and obeyed out of respect. Harry pondered over what they could have meant by 'sucking blood.' These people were either cannibals or vampires, and living in the world that he did, Harry would have bet on the latter.

Then, before he knew what was going on, he was being pulled from his vision and back into his own eyes. Suddenly he was back on the swing. He saw what he should be seeing given his current position, and The Vision was now over.

Harry immediately turned around and stared deep into the forest behind the park he was in, which was where Vasliki, James, and the old man had been. It was too dark for him to see them, but he knew that somewhere in that undergrowth they were there, staring right at him.

With a shaky breathe, he got up and walked to the sidewalk, wondering why and how he had had that vision. How he had gone inside of James's head to see and hear what had taken place?

As he walked home, he made up his mind to contact Dumbledore, or at least Ron or Hermione concerning the situation.

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><p>Harry had slipped back into the house and into the cupboard without being caught. It was now very late out and he was trying to fall asleep. His cluttered mind couldn't take any more confusion and just needed to rest. All the same, he tossed and turned endlessly, uncomfortable and cramped in the tiny space. As he shifted around, Harry's mind wandered.<p>

Concerning the Dursley's, Harry wasn't upset. He simply embraced the punishment. Of course he hadn't deserved to be put to such an awful fate, but this was the irrational Dursley's he was thinking of, and when had they ever been fair?

Harry turned onto his back. Then to his side. Then to his other side.

Fully exasperated, he sat up in his bed. He was simply too awake to possibly sleep. It was late at night, and all around him, darkness was present. Vernon had taken out his lamp, so now all he had as a source of light was his wand. But he wasn't using that right now, he just let the impenetrable black substance all around blend inside him to form the greatest high. Time ticked by as Harry sat in the darkness. He began to count the endless, dragging seconds.

_One_

Darkness and shadows made up the complete coverage of the room, shrouding it in deep thickness.

_Two_

Depression rolled over him like a tidal wave. It knotted his stomach, pulling him down, suffocating his whole body. He was tensed and his muscles clenched tightly, his jaw clamped shut. His scar was in pain; a piercing, sharp jab, running down his forehead.

_Three_

Harry's eyes were crossed as he attempted to disregard the pain, staring deep into the black space around him, eyes not seeing, but seeping into the cold, chilling, never-ending darkness. Or it was seeping into his eyes and through him. He didn't know.

_Four_

He had never felt this way before. He had never felt quite so utterly isolated and full of darkness. It was because of being here, of course. Living in this wretched house with Vernon and Petunia and Dudley. It was because none of his friends were rescuing him. Because he had been forced to live in the home in which is worst memories had taken place. Where he grew up a miserable, weak little boy with nothing to live for.

_Five_

Being here, was he really any different from how he used to be? Had he changed at all? Not really. In this house, he was still the same weakling. He was unwanted and treated unfairly. His black past was no different from his black summers.

_Six_

Pitch black rang throughout his system, driving him even more insane as he sat, a cold, stone statue perfectly still in the nothingness that his room appeared to be. Yet inside, there was a whirlwind. Maybe a fire. Raging thoughts and confusion and emotion, a dire need to sort everything out.

_Seven_

This depression was due to him living with the Dursley's, wasn't it? But hadn't he needed to live with them to stay alive, because of his mother's blessing and his aunt's blood? So he was only alive because of calling the Dursley house home, but did that make this life not worth living?

_Eight_

Everything around Harry was empty, pitch, frozen. He tried to clear his mind and focus on purely nothing. The pain in his scare subsided.

_Nine_

He stopped counting the seconds. They weren't really seconds anyway, were they? Probably more like minutes as his thoughts had wandered following each new number.

Harry violently shook his head and blinked, in attempt to freshen up. He stood up in what little room he had and stretched, trying to make himself think rationally. He loved life. He loved being a wizard and he loved his friends and he loved the fact that he was him. He was just having one of those dramatic nights. Hell, Fred would say he was PMSing. Maybe he was.

Harry laughed at this thought and felt reassured, at least for the night.

This life was worth living, and this home was worth calling home.

_Right? _

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><p><strong>It was very confusing, I'm sure, but I trust all you smart readers to understand it well enough. xD Well I hope some people actually read through this whole chapter. I also hope it hasn't been too boring so far. Don't worry, it'll pick up.^^<strong>

**Anyway, I am in search of a beta. Please help me out. Whether you recommend, offer, or just give me CC, I appreciate it!**

**Review, pretty please? ****Review prompt (definitely not necessary): What would be a good summary for this story, or is the current one fine? ****Oh yeah and please, if you have the time don't forget to vote on my poll concerning which story I should update most frequently! **

**Thanks! ~fRANkiEGirL61**


	3. The Encounter

**Okay, sorry this update is mucho late-o, I have regents and stuff. I'll try to update faster, though. At least, I hope I'll try. I'm kinda a lazyass so who knows what I will do haha. Okay, READ. (btw, there is a bigger AN at the bottom. ) Okay, now read! **

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><p>Harry zig zagged, twisted and turned, made neat straight lines along the front yard. He was mowing the lawn. It was one of the more fun chores, because when he turned it on the engine burst into life and rumbled beneath his hands, making his legs feel funny. And then he could zoom around and make patterns. It was nothing like being on a broom, but as close as he'd ever get around the Dursley's.<p>

He was just finishing up when two mysterious looking people walked by on the sidewalk outside of the house. Harry froze, one hand still on the lawn mower, and one arm hanging limply by his side. The two figures stopped and looked at him. Harry remained frozen, rooted to the spot. He knew these people. They were the vampires from his vision, who had been in the forest outside the park. One of them was the old, frail one who had wanted to stay in the neighborhood because he'd had business here. Harry couldn't help but distractedly wonder what this business was. One of them was the younger one, the woman, who was in her late twenties or early thirties, whose name had been Vasliki. She was tall and thin, yet she looked very feral and almost catlike. The third one, James, wasn't with them now.

Vasliki and the old man, whose name Harry still didn't know, stopped walking and looked at Harry. No, they weren't exactly looking. More like observing. Staring, watching. Harry watched right back. For a few minutes, the three of them just stood there and looked at each other.

Then, finally, they walked right onto the Dursley's lawn and approached him. This kind of confused Harry, because it was midday and the sun was blaring bright yellow light above them, and everywhere was sunny, except for the shadowy cool area under the trees. Weren't these people bloodsuckers? What were they doing out, or was the 'burn in the sun' thing just a myth? Or were they not even vampires? Hell, why and how had Harry even _had _that vision?

Either way, the two people were walking over the freshly mowed lawn and up to Harry. Harry wasn't sure what to do- weather or not he should back away into the house, call for help, just stand there and be friendly, or use magic? No, he decided, not magic. It wasn't time to be quite so rash yet, and besides, being rash had _definitely _gotten him into trouble before.

The old man was now standing directly in front of him, about a foot away. The woman was not much further behind.

That was when they stopped advancing and just stood there.

Harry was about to say, "Er… hi?" but the old man was already opening his mouth to speak. It was weird, though, because he wasn't speaking to Harry. Probably to Vasliki. Hearing his voice up close sent a tingling coolness through Harry, not quite what would be considered the chills, but an unnerving feeling either way.

"He looks just like him." The old man's voice was soft and gentle, yet it held a certain authority and knowledge that couldn't be denied.

Vasliki roughly made her way closer to Harry until she was side by side with the old man. "He does." She said approvingly. Her sharp, rough, cool voice was loud and clear.

The old man reached up and stroked Harry's face. Um, weird anyone? Harry tensed, his eyes solely focused close up on the man's old, wrinkled hand and the blurry image of the man himself in the background.

"He's certainly filling up the shadow's left for him to leave."

Confusion washed over Harry as to whatever this sentence possibly meant, and he really wanted to think clearly and try to understand, but the Old Man's hand was still on him and at the moment, that was all he could think about.

Vasliki pushed her companion's hand down and looked directly at Harry.

"I'm Vasliki-" she said, but was cut off from saying anything else by the old man.

"Oh, he knows." The man said. "A few nights ago when we were in the forest and he was on one of those walks, I gave him a vision."

Vasliki gaped at him, as did Harry. A million questions invaded his tired and aching mind, but Harry kept them hidden. Now was not the time for questions, a fact Harry knew all too well, the nausea in his stomach and his shaking hands were proof enough.

"A vision?" Vasliki asked, "I knew this boy had to do with your 'business' that you had here, but it was important enough business to give him a vision? Did you even get permission from the Vampire Head?"

_Okay, okay. _Harry thought. He desperately needed to think, to sort everything out in his head. So they were vampires. The man had somehow, for some reason, given him the vision. He, Harry Potter, was part of that 'business' that the man had had.

"Oh, Vasliki, of course. In fact, I am on this mission _for _the Vampire Head. He needs this boy." The old man said.

"Well," Vasliki snorted, "I can't wait for James to hear this."

"Indeed. We are telling James about everything tonight." The man murmured and the turned to look at Harry. "My name is Si. Surname's Nerr. Pleasure to meet you."

Harry just stared. Si Nerr. Sinner. Now that was weird. It also kind of sent off a dangerous vibe to Harry. "Er- I've got to get going, actually, I have some more chores…" He trailed off and attempted to back away, but Si's hand whipped out and grabbed his wrist. For such a wrinkly, frail old man, his grip was ridiculously strong, like stone.

"I'm afraid you're coming with us."

Before Harry could even open his mouth, let alone scream, Vasliki had removed his tight grip on the lawn mower and clamped his mouth shut. He kicked and reached for his wand, which had been in his sock, but only to find that Vasliki had been one step ahead of him and removed it. It was now in her hand.

Harry could barely breathe and a dizzying faintness came over him. Sounds were distant and unimportant. His vision was blurred and blackening. He was vaguely aware of his body going numb and a tingling sensation all over, and being carried away. He somehow found the energy to wonder if they'd changed him into a vampire. _No. They couldn't have. Never bit me. _Harry was sure of this. They were just taking him away; stealing him, not changing him into a vampire. Not yet at least. Maybe Dumbledore would come and save him. He had written to Dumbledore about the strange vision, but had not yet received a response.

What did these people want with him? What would the Dursley's think when he was gone? Would they be happy? Harry would have laughed, if he was fully conscious. Let them be happy. He was happy to be away from them. To be away from that home, in general. He was leaving home.

Amid the haze of being taken, Harry felt one of the two vampires, he couldn't tell which, carrying him. They were walking through the forest. Then there was a voice. One of them was speaking to him.

"Don't worry, Harry Potter. If not in the next day, then in the next week, you'll be thankful for us doing this."

* * *

><p>The red, dark, and dull explosion was let off, invading the whole room and filling it with musty smoke and fog. A middle-aged man watched as charred ashes fell to the ground and landed in scattered heaps of dust and grime. Beside him, a young boy, no older than sixteen, grimaced as the dust clouded his eyes. Despite this, he was nodding in satisfaction and contentment. This boy was average height, slightly chubby, and had neat, slicked back dark brown hair. He wore brown trousers and a plaid dress shirt.<p>

"Well, that oughtta do it." The boy said to the man, who was very short and fat, wearing rectangular spectacles and a tidy, black suit. "Thanks for the help."

"Oh, oh yes sir!" The man squeaked, tripping over his words in his urgency to please the boy. The man had always reminded the boy of an excited house-elf, and right now was no exception.

"I'll be needing your address, in case I need your service again. So I can owl you." The boy said. The man squealed, practically peeing in his pants.

"Oh yes, yes of course, how very nice of you, what an honor, well let me find some parchment…" The man scrambled through his suit pockets, upturning matches, lighters, heat protectors, and tons of other muggle stuff. The boy shot him a questioning look.

"Sometimes my work involves muggles, and I can't exactly whip out my wand use magic around them, can I?" The man chuckled, "Oh! I can just use my wand…"

On the floor beneath them the ashes shook and began to press together, causing the room to shake and a low humming noise. A few more explosions took place and the boy glanced toward the man, a slight frown creasing his face. A human-like shape formed from the ashes, slowly rising in a menacing stature.

The man casually pointed his wand toward the rising figure and muttered some old curse he knew, which quickly sent the ash figure back to the ground with a series of explosions and a lot of smoke.

"Sorry, sometimes that happens. No biggie." The man laughed, but there was a tinge of nervousness creeping into his expression, as if the boy would no longer think he was good enough for the job. "Er, anyway, I'll just, you know…" The man trailed off at the boy's eerie silence and used his wand to conjure a quill and some parchment to write his address on.

The boy took the parchment without word and nodded toward the grime. "Perhaps you should clean this up, Jamm." He said calmly.

The man, Jamm, then proceeded to cast the clean up spell, and the charred gray ashes disappeared from the ground, wisped away to a nonexistent fate.

"Well now, I guess that's that. Good working with you." The boy murmured, stuffing the parchment into his robes and shaking Jamm's hand, who, by the way, was grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh yes, you're right! That's that! Now please don't refrain from owling me if you ever need another traitor vampire killed! I could do it in seconds. It is my profession, after all. And I work for the ministry, I'm a great spy all around, I must say. Now as I said please owl me if you need a-"

"I think that's been established," the boy said, "now you can show yourself out."

Jamm bowed and scurried away out of the dungeons and then out of the house. He was honored to have been hired by the Head of the Vampires, and close friend of the great Voldemort. This was despite Jamm's immense surprise upon seeing that this great wizard, friend of Voldemort and Head of Vampires, was only a mere boy! All the same, Jamm was proud of his job well done. He had been killing creatures since he himself was about fourteen, and had never stopped since.

Still in the dungeons was the boy himself, standing erectly in the shadows, staring at the floor, where just twenty minutes ago an alive and existent prisoner vampire had been chained and dragged down to the ground, emaciated and sickly. His dull and sunken eyes had stared up at the boy tiredly, and his pale figure hadn't enough energy to move.

_But now he's dead. Gone. Non-existent. Because I ordered him dead. _The boy thought, and didn't try to hold back the amused laugh that escaped from his throat.

He turned around and made his away upstairs, out of the dungeons. He walked pass the fireplace, the living room, the kitchen, up some more stairs, and onto the upper-floor of his house. Sleek mahogany furniture lined the hallway and exotic lights from his parents' collections hung from the ceiling. His grandma appeared from the door to her room and spotted the boy in the hall.

"Neville, I heard something loud coming from the dungeons. Just what were you doing down there?"

He laughed and casually hugged his grandma hello. "Just playing around. You know, holding an experiment."

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I had like, major writer's block for this chapter. Yes, it sucks. Sorry that it's so confusing- don't worry. Things will clear up within the next two chapters. I don't know why I had to bring Neville into this as the evil Head of Vampires, but hey it helped cure my Writer's Block :)**

**And well sorry this update is real late, I have school, regents, and classes, all that fun stuff and I'm kind of a lazyass so yeah. **

**Anywaaay, I will try to update a few times before school ends. Graduation is in 22 days. Woot! Then I have two weeks for some general chillage, I'll update a few times then, and then I'm going to be away for an uber long time. I have four weeks of camp, Switzerland, some other vacays, and I'll try to update at least twice during those months but no promises- I don't even know when I'll be able to get my hands on a laptop. And then I have like a week left of summer for more general chillage. Even though now that I think if it, it won't be general chillage because I'll be freaking out about school studying all my notes. (you know, because teachers always give those bogus 'let's see what you remember from last year' tests) But I guess I can go to the beach to study during that week, because it'll still be warm, so no biggie. And then… school. So yeah I am sort of rambling here, sorry for boring you with the details of my life. ~ **

**Oh btw, if you're REALLY confused (I won't be surprised if you are) just tell me so in a review or pm and I'll try to clear things up.**

**Please, REVIEW. It gives me the strength to go on, no joke. xD**

**See ya! ~fRANkiEGirL61**


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